Page 42 of Branded

“Jason was twelve at the time, and since he couldn’t actually skydive, there was only one option. Indoor skydiving.”

“That’s a thing?” I ask.

“It is. It’s this big, cylindrical tower with a giant fan in the floor. They put you in all the gear, let you step inside, turn on the fan and up you go. Anyway, my parents surprised Jason with a chance to do it while we were on vacation. I don’t think I had ever seen him so happy.”

I squeeze her ankle then rub from there up her calf and back down mindlessly, comforting her. “I can see the memory in your eyes. Your face is lighting up thinking about it.”

“It’s nice to remember him like that.”

“If it’s too much, you don’t have to tell me. You can tell me to mind my own fucking business and that’ll be the end of it, but… what happened to him?”

She stares down into her glass, which has now built up a bit of condensation and slides her thumb over it, sweeping away some of the droplets.

“He got into the wrong crowd and started doing things he shouldn’t. Stealing, fighting… drugs. Long story short, drugs placed him in a situation he shouldn’t have been in and that was it.”

My gut tells me there is so much more to this story that she isn’t telling me, but it’s not my business to push any further. She was brave enough to share that much, and that’s all I can ask for.

“Jesus, Sawyer, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I miss him so much every single day, but I have to live life for him now. That’s what I’m doing.” She holds her head high as she talks about him. It’s like she has to force herself though because I can see in her eyes how sad she really is.

“That’s very admirable.”

“Don’t let it fool you. I’m broken because of it and I have my bad days.”

“Like the day I saw you in your car after running at the track?” I say before thinking it through.

Her eyes lock on mine, and she nods. “Yes.”

“I swear I wasn’t spying on you or staring. I just looked over and there you were.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t expect to cry. It hits me sometimes out of nowhere and over the silliest things, as you know after what happened at school.”

“I wanted to come over and make sure you were okay that day, but it didn’t feel like the time.”

“I had just talked to my mom and that really brings it out sometimes,” she sighs. “I don’t like people seeing me cry. It makes me feel anything but strong.”

I slide my hand up her leg to where her hands are resting in her lap, wrapped around her nearly empty glass and take it from her, placing it on the coaster next to mine.

There is something about this woman pulling me in slowly, more and more every day, and I don’t want to fight it. Not even a little.

“You’re a very strong, capable woman. You shouldn’t be hiding in your car or in your classroom to cry all alone. Own what hurts you and know that crying doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

She opens her hand and our fingers slide together, link, and fold into one another. I bring our joined hands up to my mouth and place a kiss to her middle knuckle.

“I like you a lot,” she says in a near whisper. “It’s scary, actually. I never expected to like you so fast.”

“What a coincidence,” I say, as I slide my free hand under her knee and tug her to sit sideways across my lap. “I like you a lot too.”

With roaming hands, never slipping underneath the barrier of our clothes, we kiss right here on her sofa in a mix of lips, tongues, teeth, soft breaths, and moans for the remainder of the evening until we both fall asleep curled together in the crook of the plush cushions.

It’s sensual without sex.

It’s intimate without losing our clothes.

It’s simply… perfect.

The sun slices through the window and over my face, pulling me from one of the most restful sleeps I’ve had in a while. I can still feel the weight of a sleeping Sawyer draped half on top of me, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.

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